


Go with the flowers

by anthiese



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, by god i just think hapi deserves nice things, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23059504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthiese/pseuds/anthiese
Summary: “My mother always said to point out pretty things, when I see them.”He’s never played this game with her before, though Hapi has seen him play it with so many people before, that she knows when he’s being genuine. She leans a bit closer.“My mom said not to trust pretty boys.”
Relationships: Hapi/Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc
Comments: 11
Kudos: 66





	Go with the flowers

**Author's Note:**

> had to write this cuz i wanted to have them interact cuz they're very cute together, and i didn't have anything resembling a plot, so here you go. If it matters, it's in their ending post AM, after their first visit to the village.  
> Might fuck around and write more... we'll see!  
> enjoy!

“And what do you see at the end?” 

“Uh, white trout maybe?” 

Yuri’s finger traces a pattern she doesn’t see. Hapi tilts her head. 

“I’d say it’s more like a crayfish... See those little stars all around?” 

Yuri squints at her, then back to the hole in the ceiling, and he sits up on his palms so fast that her head slips from his shoulder, and she almost lets out a sigh. 

“Pincers?” Yuri asks, still glaring at their dark cutout of sky. “Are you sure you’re not just hungry?” 

“Then I would’ve asked you to save me an extra portion for dinner.” 

He snorts. “True. Then if those stars go together and that thing’s the fin, maybe... Hm. I guess I can see it.” 

Hapi shifts on the crate, crosses her legs, turns to look at his concentrated pretty face. 

“Really?” 

She’s met with an awkward silence, as Yuri slowly looks back down to her, eyes dark with suspicion. 

“Are you making fun of me, Hapi?” 

“Am I?” 

He scoffs, putting on his best outraged face—it’s very good, Hapi has to admit, and she starts laughing as he theatrically throws his hands in the air. 

“Your poor Yuri-bird, so beloved by your parents, your dear Yuri-bird whom you trust so much—” 

She head-butts his shoulder, which makes him laugh enough to stop his ridiculous monologue and give her a chance to reply. 

“That Yuri-bird, whom I adore and love making fun of.” 

He scoffs again, this time a bit more sincerely, and looks at her with wide eyes. 

“Being sincere now, are we?” 

Hapi shrugs. “It’s not like I hide it. Besides, you’re still terrible with stars, so you kind of deserve being made fun of.” 

Then she turns back to look at the sky, at those unlikely constellations of his, and puts her head back on his shoulder. 

She doesn’t even really know how they ended up here, sitting on a crate in this cramped, tumbledown storage room at the edges of Abyss, but the natural light lured Yuri in, and she followed, and then she also stayed, because for some reason staring at the sky with him has never been too boring. Even now, she doesn’t feel like sighing, and she doesn’t feel like going back to the city, or to sleep in those luxurious chambers the new Archbishop granted them. It feels comfortable here. 

Then Yuri speaks, his voice clear and low in the night air. 

“You’re making that face again.” 

Hapi looks up, to find him staring down at her. 

“What face?” She asks, pulling back and sitting up, before bracing her arms around his neck. 

“You know.” 

“Nope.” 

And she doesn’t, really, because she’s a bit tired from the morning’s battle and way too relaxed to think about her facial expressions around Yuri, even as one of his hands falls to rest on her hip. 

“That smile of yours,” he says then, as if his own isn’t something breathtaking. 

“What about it? Want me to frown at you instead?” 

Yuri’s laughter is crisp and raw, echoing all the way up to his neck, and she likes how it feels under her fingertips. This time Hapi is aware of how wide she’s smiling. 

“It’s nice, and I’m lucky to see it.” Yuri replies, his eyes dropping to her lips. “My mother always said to point out pretty things, when I see them.” 

He’s never played this game with her before, though Hapi has seen him play it with so many people before, that she knows when he’s being genuine. She leans a bit closer. 

“My mom said not to trust pretty boys,” she tells him, taking in the sight of his confident gaze wavering for a second, before pressing a kiss to his jaw. 

He barks out another laugh, short and tense, as if he wouldn’t have expected her to actually play along, but when Hapi pulls back there’s a new fire in his eyes. 

“That’s a poor impression of mistrust, if I’ve seen one.” His hand reaches her face, and he takes her chin between his thumb and index, and she lets him. “Unless you think I’m not pretty?” 

“I couldn’t in good conscience accuse you of that, Yuri-bird,” Hapi almost sighs, instead settling for rolling her eyes. Stars know if he’s pretty. 

“Then you’re no good at this whole distrusting business… If you were, I wouldn’t be doing this.” Slowly, he turns her head, kisses her left cheek, then the right. 

Hapi smiles. 

“Or this.” He goes on, to lift her chin, press his lips to the left side of her neck, and she curls her fingers at the base of his. 

Even without her saying anything, Yuri must guess that it feels pretty nice, because he immediately shifts his leg, the hand on her hip guiding her body closer, and this huge self-satisfied smile on his face. 

“Are you always this smug or did I just never pay enough attention?” Hapi asks, following the invitation and climbing into his lap. 

“You’re always free to pay more attention to me.” Yuri says. 

He tilts her chin again, baring the right side of her neck, and this time he kisses there, open-mouthed, warm, and pulling away a bit too quickly for Hapi’s tastes. She shivers. 

“Just don’t get all needy on me now, please.” 

“Oh, no, of course not,” Yuri laughs, and pushes his head against her shoulder, so Hapi takes the chance to thread her fingers through his soft hair. “Can’t make that two of us—” 

“ _Yuri!_ ” 

He laughs again, breaking away from Hapi to throw his head back, which makes her find out she also likes how the rumble of his voice feels from where she is, perched on his lap. Maybe she just likes him. It’s weird. Whatever it is, she slides her hands from his hair to the middle of his chest, and she likes the way Yuri looks back at her. 

“Want to?” he asks, his palm stroking up her hip and all the way to her ribs, then down again. 

“Yeah.” Hapi replies. 

Yuri nods, then he lunges, and Hapi finds herself laying down, her back against the crate and his body over hers. She reaches up to pull off her cape, while his lips find every naked inch of her chest, and his hand makes its way down her body. 

Hapi’s fingers pull at the ties of her bodice, with the quiver of someone who hasn’t been in a position like this for way too long, and his hand joins hers, with its own slight, but uncharacteristic unsteadiness. It’s unfastened in a flash, but still it takes him a couple of sharp pulls to get it open, and she absently wonders if the great Yuri lost his touch, after so many years at war, or if he’s always been like this, and she’s just never experienced it. 

Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter much when the pretty, delicate Yuri hovering over her body moves back to watch as she slips off the bodice and starts unbuttoning her chemise, ethereal and unmoving even as she reveals inch after inch of that scar that cuts from her collarbone down to the top of her ribs. 

He has seen it before, because the Wolves are a pack and the pack doesn’t hide from each other, not even when the matter is something so ugly—and there was comfort in sharing secrets with someone so similar to you. Now they must’ve really grown up, because Hapi finds there’s comfort in sharing the silence, and in noticing differences. 

And it couldn’t be otherwise when Yuri waits in silence under the open ceiling, and between the starlight pouring down to his pale hair and that ridiculously innocent smile he wears, he looks something like a better imitation of a Saint. 

Then his hand lands on her knee, just as Hapi pops the final button, and she shifts enough for him to straddle her leg and lean back over her. His fingers touch down to her inner thigh, stroke lazy circles. Her heart is beating a tad faster now, and the touch doesn’t seem to be enough. 

“Anything in particular you want?” Yuri asks. 

Very precise, curt. Professional. She finds herself laughing. “Um, I don’t know. It’s been a while. Just touch me.” 

She swallows a “please”. Yuri nods dutifully, and reaches up to untie her bra, peeling it back as if unwrapping a present, before kissing the skin under her breast, and sliding his hand down between her legs. He takes his sweet time, nibbling on the soft skin as his palm aimlessly presses against her, in short calculated movements that threaten to take her breath away. 

He’s romantic like that, with his own brand of poetry in the way he moves, speaks, exists—something that makes men and maidens of the surface blush, but Hapi isn’t one of them. She doesn’t need to avert her eyes. 

“So, when are you going to kiss me?” she asks, her hips grinding up against his hand, searching for a better angle, harsher friction. 

Yuri’s teeth tug at her nipple, and she holds back a squeak—before he looks up, surprised. “Wasn’t sure you wanted to.” 

Hapi tilts her head. “I do. You?” 

He smiles, giving her a little nod and catching her lips in his. It’s pretty sweet, if a bit mild for someone who’s currently unbuttoning her pants and trying hard to pull them down while refusing to move his leg from between hers—but when Hapi slips her tongue in his mouth he gets feistier, and a fun amount of uncoordinated that has his nose bump against her and makes her groan out a laugh. 

Then Yuri sits back again, somewhat reluctant, and she needs a second to come back from the warm daze in which he sent her, and help him pull down her pants. He kisses her again, at his own speed this time, and it’s little tongue and all lips, save for a bit more teeth than she’s used to—that’s part of his style, Hapi notices, and she likes it. 

When he starts to inch away, she’s tempted to use the trick against him, tug at his lip to keep him close, but then Yuri kisses her nose and dips down between her legs, and she likes that even better. 

“Hapi,” he calls, pressing a kiss right below her bellybutton, “no sighing, yeah?” 

She rolls her eyes. “I’ll sigh if you’re disappointing.” 

His thumbs hook on her underwear, and the way he looks up at her as he pulls it off reeks of so much confidence that she can’t help but add, “...which I don’t think you are.” 

Yuri smiles, and he closes the distance. His tongue parts her folds as he grips her thighs like she’s going to slip away, and the relief is immediate and divine. He kisses fast, much faster than he kissed her mouth, switching from pushing his tongue inside her to closing his lips around her clit in the time of a sigh, until Hapi puts a hand on his head, guiding him closer, _closer_. He follows so easily that she almost wants to pull him back up, tell him how good a lover he is and how much she kind of likes him, and then ride him until her legs give out—but he keeps up his inexorable pace, and Hapi decides it can wait for another time. 

Soon a hand leaves her thigh, and Yuri lifts it, wagging his fingers. 

“Two,” Hapi replies, and Yuri is on it with a staggering coordination, fingers pumping inside her when his tongue isn’t. 

She’s almost jealous of how good he is at this, or maybe disappointed of how needy she actually ended up being, but whatever it is she’s getting closer much faster than she would’ve expected, and she finds herself patting Yuri’s head. 

“Never mind,” she gasps. “Fine without.” 

“Mmm.” Yuri hums against her, and she feels his voice course through her entire body, like some venom or a good song. Her hips cant against his mouth as he withdraws the fingers, grips her thigh again, but his head moves away, just enough to speak, breathlessly. 

“How is it?” 

“Uh. Slower,” Hapi says, which she must’ve never told anyone else before. 

Yuri complies, pressing his tongue flat against her, drawing out longer, more elaborated patterns across her clit. 

She hopes it’ll help her last longer, and it doesn’t. At the very least she manages to stay silent, while her hand closes around a fistful of his fine hair, and she trembles, arches slow against Yuri’s mouth—the warmest, softest thing she must’ve ever felt. 

He slows down even more now, moving to the rhythm of Hapi’s breathing, drawing long, lazy stripes from the hood of her clit to her core, until she tugs at his hair and manages to blurt out a tired “Yuri-bird.” 

Then he pushes up to his knees, and Hapi really has to resist sighing when he starts liking his fingers clean. 

“Showoff,” she snorts. 

Yuri shrugs. “You’re so, so very welcome.” 

Hapi rolls her eyes, but even she can’t hold back a giggle. “Yeah. Thank you for the hard work.”

Yuri helps her button the chemise and put her pants back on, and it’s uncomfortable and definitely wet, but she thanks him all the same, resting her head on the crook of his neck when he comes lay down next to her. He stretches and yawns, the little wolf pup under the moon. Hapi snuggles closer.

“Can I repay the favor, Yuri-bird?” 

“Next time. Dead tired.” 

She likes the idea of a next time. “Of course, you poor soul.” 

He laughs, another pleasant rumble under Hapi’s ears, before falling silent for just a moment. 

“On second thought, here’s a favor; switch places with me,” he tells her. 

So Hapi lays back down to look at the stars, and Yuri puts his head on her chest, an arm thrown over her body. 

“What are you seeing in the stars?” 

“Hmm.” She squints, just for show. “Your mouth.” 

“Praise! I like that.” 

“And my parents chasing you with a fishing rod.” 

“Oh? Is that a prediction?” Yuri’s weight on her chest shifts, though she can’t tell if it’s to get more comfortable or to look at her. “A threat? 

“Don’t know them enough yet, but there’s always the possibility that people would want you dead.” 

“Not for making their daughter smile, I’d hope.” To his credit, Hapi does smile, and roll her eyes, while he makes some grand gesture towards her and himself. “The goddess blesses those of us who spread love through her land.” 

“Never heard that before,” but she can trust Yuri to say that, and he knows that she does. 

“That’s what Seiros wrote,” he goes on, his voice now serious, “what my mother taught me.” 

“I can respect that.” 

They’re silent again, Yuri’s eyes on her as she watches the sky, strokes his hair. Considers the pleasant sound of the word love. 

“Yuri-bird.” She calls. “When’s the last time you visited your mom?” 

“Hmm.” 

Hapi glances back down, to see Yuri close his eyes. 

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me.” 

“I’m not...” He sighs, quiet enough that she can tell he’s trying to be considerate. “Five years. Or, guess it’s six, now.” 

“Really? Why? It’s so easy for you.” 

He shrugs. “I mess shit up so often. It’s better to help her from afar.” 

Hapi glances down at him, before abruptly sitting up, sending his head falling down into her lap. 

“Stupid.” She says, staring into his now wide-open eyes. “You took me back to Timotheos just fine, we’ll just have to do the same.” 

“I wouldn’t ask that of you, Hapi.” 

“I’m not waiting for you to ask. Tomorrow you tell your Scorpions they’re on vacation, I tell Chatterbox we’re taking a week off. Easy peasy.” 

Yuri looks back at her, still immobile on her lap, blinking fast, before gesturing for Hapi to come closer. When she leans further down, he raises an arm, brushing a finger up the curve of her jaw. 

“You’re the best, you know that?” 

Then he cups her cheek, and pulls her down to meet his lips once more. When they separate, Hapi wonders why exactly she kind of likes it each time better than the last. 

“You kiss well for someone who thought the earth was flat.” 

“Thanks.” Yuri genuinely smiles, and she almost wants to kick him down the crate, for daring to be this endearing. 

Instead she ushers him back to his feet and walks them both out of the little storage room. 

“We better not take too long getting back to the city,” she tells Yuri, “the birds need to pack warm clothes.” 


End file.
